A/N: I don't know if anyone noticed, but I added a new character to the previous chapters. You see, I ran into the problem of Sevvie's being attacked by… well, anyone. You see, by taking away his wand, I left him incredibly vulnerable, so I had to add the practical and dashing young Clarence to the mix, giving Sevvie a body guard and therefore taking away that vulnerability that was so very dangerous. I know some of you will be pleased with the addition, and others will be indifferent, so I thought it safe to make this humble addition.

Chapter Five

There it stood, in the corner of her office. It was the final prototype of the first staff. It had taken two months to run through thousands of possible combinations, all of those hours spent cornered in her rooms, Clarence at the door.

Clarence. There was an interesting young man. Snape remembered the first time Clarence had spoken with him. It was two weeks into the making of the first staff Hermione and he had been attempting to build.

"I know what you two are doing in there," the virile creature had said as they were returning to the Potions rooms late that night.

"Do you?" Severus asked enigmatically.

"Maybe not exactly, but I know it's illegal."

"Then why don't you turn us in to the Headmistress? You two seem close."

"I am not a snitch, Professor. I was in Gryffindor with Harry Potter. I stayed behind when the final battle took place. I am not going to turn in someone who saved his life."

"Hmm. Saved his life, did I? Few seem keen on remembering that. Including the noble and oh-so-brave Mr. Potter."

"I also know about your grudge against him."

"I never tried to keep that hidden."

"Still. I won't turn you in."

"Thank you, Clarence. We don't intend to do anything harmful to the general populace."

"You're welcome. I understand the need to break rules once in a while, Professor."

Severus smiled at the memory. Clarence would never be his friend, but it was good to have one more ally in this school, a person who did not hate him with a deep passion. He had never consciously minded being hated and alone, but he was only now realizing what he had been missing forgot or failed to make friends when he was too busy studying. There was always Lucius, but a relationship with that ruined aristocrat wasn't very useful anymore.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Try it out!" Hermione Granger squealed excitedly.

They had tried a plethora of combinations, some more effective than others, and this was the pinnacle of their efforts. Still, Snape thought, there was no reason to squeal.

He picked up the thing and looked at it. She had obviously worked on it after he had left the night before. The staff gleamed with a layer of magical polish, with a large orb at the top, much like the pictures in Granger's illuminated edition of the Lord of the Rings, something she said she had quite enjoyed before coming to Hogwarts. It looked like a walking stick more than the giant sceptres carried by the fictional wizards, though. Gripping it in his hand, he thought he felt a promising tingle at his fingertips.

Certainly the stick was more awkward than his wand, and could not be held in the same manner, but to his amazement and elation, he felt all of that building magical tension flowing through him. It was a buzz, much like being slightly intoxicated, and the thrill whirled through his veins. With a sweeping motion, he cried out a spell.

"Accio book," he stated. The book on the desk in front of him, coincidentally The Fellowship of the Ring, gave a half-hearted leap into the air, and he had to stretch to catch it, but he felt better already.

"It worked!" Hermione muttered.

"It did," Severus stated in a surprised whisper.

Hermione began clapping and leaping with overflowing joy. "We did it!" she nearly shouted. "I made the first alternative form of magical outlet!"

"Don't flatter yourself," he muttered, but she wasn't listening. Suddenly, she pounced in his direction.

"We did it," she whispered to him, her jumping and clapping having ceased when she came before him. The pair stared at each other deeply for a moment.

In her eyes, there was pure joy. In his, magic crackled and energy overflowed. It was a dangerous match. Completely in unison, the two fell together into a hard, fast kiss.

Wrong! Too fast, too fast, the professor thought as the kiss deepened and hands began to wander down his back, sending wonderful shivers crawling all over his body to his most sensitive and eager spots. Her lips were soft and full against his, sliding easily apart, and his own mouth moved against hers so smoothly, so pleasurably, that stopping was no longer a question. Warmth seemed to ooze from her body as he sent his own hands across the delicate curves. His pale, spidery fingers slid under the hem of her jumper and eased it up, up, up, until the pale flesh that had tantalised him all those nights was completely visible, but then his greedy hands covered the pillow-soft flesh and gave a rough squeeze. She moaned against his mouth and pulled his hips closer to rub, oh, so, so gently against her stomach. It was all too much. The pair fell to the carpet, shedding clothing as they went.

- - - -

"Well, that was embarrassing."

"It really is all right. It was a mistake to try that. I'm glad," she insisted.

"Well, I'm not," Severus said, pulling his black robes over his bare back angrily. His normally pale, sallow cheekbones burned with shame.

How could it have happened? He felt as if he had ruined everything. No, he was sure he had ruined everything. And what was worse, he could give no excuse for his… inability to perform. The reason he had stopped would have disgusted her, repelled her, and destroyed whatever remnant of a relationship they might be able to salvage. What woman wanted to hear that while she was earnestly, blatantly, happily, and effectively making love to a man, he was thinking of another woman? How could he have been such a blithering idiot? There before him, sprawled half-naked on the floor, lay a young, beautiful creature, ripe for the taking, and he had choked. Just as he was about to join her writhing body for the first time, a picture manifested in his mind of Lily Potter, laying dead in the rubble of her home. He had stopped cold.

As he pulled on his pants and began fastening his many buttons, she whispered, "I'm sorry." His hands stilled as he turned.

"For what?" he asked incredulously.

"It's my fault. I know it is. I did something wrong," she whimpered as her eyes filled with tears. "I-It's just, I-I've never, you know, done—"

"Shh!" he hissed, putting his fingers over her lips. "I want you to know that it is entirely my fault. I--" He paused, wondering what to say. "I'm just an old man. You were… You were… No one could have done better."

There. He had lied, but she wouldn't go on thinking it was her fault. For some reason, though, she covered her face and began to shudder. Now what is it? He thought despairingly.

"I'm so stupid," she said, lifting her eyes to his. "You've always been mean to me, you hate my best friends, and I don't even really know you, but I was about to give up years of restraint in one moment. I really am glad we stopped." Tears still coursed from her eyes, but frustration was mounting in them as well. "I think you had better go, Professor."

"Good night, then, Miss Granger," he said, and turned to leave, composed and completely dressed with the staff in his hand, leaving Hermione Granger crying in the floor, rubbing her bruised breast, wearing only her undergarments and an unzipped skirt.

Clarence shook his head as he caught a glimpse of the girl on the floor while Severus Snape walked out of the room.

"What did you do to her?" Clarence cried, his handsome features contorting with rage.

"Nothing. And I mean that in the most humiliating way possible, so if you don't mind, I would appreciate it if you kept your… righteous outrage… to yourself." He uttered those two words through his teeth, sharp hisses bitterly enunciated into the surprised blue eyes of his bodyguard. Severus swooped and Clarence glided back down to the dungeons, where he swore he would stay until he died, and knew even as he swore that that would never happen. As he sprawled onto his bed, he could see his entire life before him like a map, perfectly unchanging. Only now he would have to deal with a depressed twat at breakfast every day. Clarence lay down on his cot and wondered if Snape meant what he thought he did and what his girlfriend was doing at that moment.